


Two of Us (Dean)

by FunkyTown67_RH



Series: Two of Us [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Hates Witches, Flying, Gun Violence, Holding Hands, Homosexuality, Hotels, Hunters & Hunting, Immortality, Impala, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mind Meld, Sharing a Bed, Spells & Enchantments, Werewolves, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyTown67_RH/pseuds/FunkyTown67_RH
Summary: Dean and Cas go on a hunting trip... just the two of them. Dean's POV





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the Dean POV no one wanted, but I had to write. Enjoy! :)
> 
> EDIT 10/2: Hey, I just wanted to let everyone know that I made a Tumblr where I'll be posting new works and new chapters. Go check it out! I'm funkytown67rh. Thanks!

Inspired by _Two of Us_ by the Beatles 

 

     Dean was tired. He just wanted to relax and binge on Netflix or something. But no. There was some werewolf crisis in Missouri. And Sam couldn’t come what with his broken leg and all. Dean was not looking forward to doing this alone. Then an idea came to him. Maybe Cas would agree to come? Dean never wanted to ask him because he felt that Cas would just be bothered by something so mundane and human. He’d ask and if Cas said no, he'd just do it alone like he had been planning all along. He would _not_ be disappointed.

    “Cas! Get your feathered ass in here.” Dean yelled into the bunker.

    “Hello, Dean. What is it you want?”  Cas materialized in front of him. Dean wasn’t surprised. He’d gotten used to that ages ago.

    “You’re coming with me on this hunt,” Dean cringed inside. He hadn’t actually _asked_. Suddenly self-conscious, he continued, “I could probably take it alone, but hunts have a way of surprising you and it’s always best to work in pairs...:” Dean realized he was babbling and forced himself to stop. Cas tilted his head

    “What about Sam? Is he not coming?” Damn. Cas didn’t want to come with him.

    “He’s still got that busted leg from that damned shifter. He’s still on crutches. I’m not gonna let him hunt a werewolf.” Dean, hiding his disappointment, was pointedly not looking at Cas by focusing on packing his rifles and ammunition as quickly as he could.

    “And you consider me to be an acceptable replacement?” Dean jerked his head up to look at Cas. What was he talking about? Dean snorted.

    “What sort of question is that? Course you are Cas.”  Dean said without an ounce of doubt. Besides Sam, there was no one Dean would rather be with.

     “Are we leaving now?” Cas seemed eager, by Cas standards.

    “Yes. Before Sam wakes up. He’ll make a big fuss about not coming and pull out the puppy eyes and I don’t want to have to take that today,” Plus Dean couldn’t wait to get on the road with Cas. Just him and Cas for once sounded wonderful.  He would never admit it, but he was pretty much head over heels for Cas. He knew the angel would never think of him the same way, but Dean could handle that as long as Cas didn’t leave him. He slung the heavy duffle bag over his shoulder, “Let’s go.”

    Cas followed him out of the bunker. When they got to his Baby, he tossed the duffle into the trunk and slipped in behind the wheel. Cas just stood in front of the passenger door for a moment. Had he changed his mind? Cas seemed reluctant as he sat down, but Dean was satisfied. He never truly understood Cas’s moods anyway.

    Dean turned the keys and the Impala roared to life. He stroked the wheel, entirely too happy thinking about the seven hour drive in front of him. “I know, it’s been too long, Baby,” Dean was pretty sure he hadn’t left the bunker for a week. He was also looking forward to Welton’s. Their pecan pie was the most amazing thing on planet Earth.

    In the four hour drive to Welton’s, Dean let himself relax and enjoy having Cas trapped in a car next to him. He told the corniest jokes he could think of just to see that adorable confused expression pass over Cas’s face. It never failed to make Dean laugh. Sometimes he would ask Cas about current events or whatever he pulled out of his head at that moment. Cas would thoroughly and seriously answer all of them as if he was being quizzed.

    When he thought Cas wasn’t looking, Dean would stare at Cas while he talked. He enjoyed seeing the angel think and he just enjoyed looking at him, period. If asked the definition of hot, Dean was pretty sure he’d just slap a picture of Cas up on the wall. Despite his attempts at being subtle, Dean was reprimanded by Cas several times. Apparently Cas thought that Dean needed to watch the empty road at all times as a ‘safety precaution’.

    When they arrived at Welton’s, Dean ordered a full pecan pie at the drive thru. Without Sam here, he could pretty much eat only pie. And burgers. Cas wouldn’t mind. Dean parked the car in the lot and pulled out one slice. He looked over at Cas and suddenly the image of feeding Cas a piece of pie, bite by bite, forced itself in front of his eyes. The idea instantly appealed to Dean.

    “Hey, Cas. You want some pie? It’s freakin’ delicious.” Dean looked at Cas hopefully.

    “No thank you, Dean. Don’t waste your pie on me. It would just taste like molecules.” Even though he was refusing, Dean was pretty sure he saw Cas give his version of a smile.

    “Can’t you like, decide to taste something? I mean, Jimmy could taste things, why not you?” Dean was genuinely curious and wondering if he could convince Cas to try just one bite.

    “No. I am occupying this vessel. It is not me. There is a degree of separation. Plus angels were created to see the world as it is, not as humanity perceives it. The pie _is_ a collection of molecules.” Cas looked out the window.

    Dean chewed his pie slowly. He was always disturbed when Cas talked like that. It wasn’t that it highlighted how not human Cas was. Dean knew that and accepted it. It was that it showed that Cas wasn’t… his. Cas would eventually return to his home. He didn’t belong on this mundane planet. He was so much better than anything Dean could offer him.

   Dean’s pie didn’t taste right anymore. He finished his slice, but felt no inclination for another. Without a word, he cranked the keys and drove back onto the highway. Eventually Dean managed to find his good mood again. Even if Cas was destined to leave him, he could enjoy this moment.

    When they arrived in Missouri, Dean found the nearest gas station and parked in front of it. He stood up and his joints were stiff from the long drive. He’d have to stretch them out when he went to change. He turned to get his suit out of the back seat and was abruptly completely comfortable in his body. Absolutely no aches. He glanced up at Cas who was staring into the distance and seemed to be paying Dean no attention. Dean seriously suspected that Cas would randomly heal him of minor things. Like the time he swore he had cut his finger on a machete, but couldn’t find the wound when he went to bandage it.

    “We have some time before I need to book a hotel room. You wanna start at the station and get access to the morgue?” Dean wanted Cas to look at him. Maybe he would see something in his face to confirm these suspicions.

   “Studying the corpses of the deceased would seem a logical first step.” Cas said in all seriousness, no indication on his face whether or not he had helped Dean with his stiffness. Dean smiled. Cas could say some really strange things with complete sincerity. Dean loved that about him.

    “Ok, Cas. Let’s do this,” Dean finished retrieving his suit from the Impala and went into the gas station restroom to change. It was disgusting, but Dean was used to that. When he was finished, he walked back out to Cas. He looked at his trench coat and tie and guessed it was good enough to pass as an FBI agent. Dean would still like to see Cas  in a full suit and tie…

    Dean quickly found his ID and then dug around for the one he’d made for Cas a few months ago. He’d been planning on asking Cas to be a permanent member of Team Winchester, but had chickened out. The day he’d planned on asking him, Cas had started talking about some scuffle in Heaven and Dean had realized that Cas belonged there with other angels, not with him, an average, mortal man. He had almost burnt the ID, but saved it, hoping.

    He stared at the ID, recalling all of this, for a moment before holding it up, standing, and saying, “Just flash this and let me do all the talking.” Cas’s eyes widened and he cautiously took the ID. As Cas seemingly studied the ID, Dean shifted nervously on his feet.

    Cas looked up and said in a voice heavy with emotion, “Thank you.” Dean was taken aback at the sincerity of those two words. He didn’t know exactly what Cas was so grateful about, but he was thrilled that he was.

    “No problem. Come on.” Dean sat back down in the Impala. As they drove to the station, Dean kept glancing over at Cas. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of the ID. If this was how he reacted to the FBI badge, Dean would have to make Cas one of every type he could think of.

    When they arrived, Dean jumped out of the Impala and walked through the doors with as much a show of confidence as he could muster. People tended to give him what he asked for when he acted confident. Dean looked back to make sure Cas was following and then approached the front desk. A pretty brunette officer was sitting behind it. Dean smiled at her.

    “Hello, Ma’am. Agents Harker and Bacic. We’re here to take over the investigation of the recent… unusual deaths.” He held up his badge and saw Cas fumble slightly with his out of the corner of his eye.

    “I hope you had better training than we did. We can’t make heads nor tails of this case. Whoever is doing this doesn’t leave a speck of forensic evidence. Ever.” She handed Dean the file. Dean opened it and scanned the pages. What he saw was pretty horrifying.

    “And you’re sure this was a who? These wounds look like they could have been inflicted by an animal.” Dean looked at the gaping holes and frowned.

    “Every victim has a symbol carved into their ribcage where it is exposed. Also, next to each victim was a pile of.. flesh scraps. It seems that while they somehow ripped the heart out with animalistic ruthlessness, they spent the time cleaning the excess tissue off of the heart.” The officer seemed to be restraining vomit. Lovely. A light-weight.

    Dean looked at Cas and they silently agreed that whoever killed these people was not a werewolf. “Could we see the bodies?” Dean asked, hoping that would clear things up.

   “Of course. Follow me.” The officer led them through the station and into the morgue. She opened four drawers and pulled out the bodies each contained. She stepped back and brought her hand up to her nose, “I hope you don’t mind if I just head back. I saw this once and that was one time too many.”

    As he said, lightweight. Dean smiled at her, “Of course. We’ll clean up and be out of your hair in no time.” She nodded her thanks and hurried out. Dean lifted the cloth on the first body.

    “The pictures do not do it justice. It says in the report that the hearts were removed while they were still alive. Must have been brutal.” Dean grimaced and moved on to the next body. Cas stayed at the first one and squinted at the rib, looking for the symbol. Pretending to inspect the body, Dean watched Cas instead. When Cas looked up, Dean whipped his head down to look at the body. A moment later he innocently moved on to the next victim.

    When they both had finished inspecting all four bodies, Cas gave his report, “These sigils weave together to form a spell of immortality. However, one sigil is still missing…”

    “...and so there’s going to be one more kill,” Dean said. What was that thing about finishing each other’s sentences? “Well, we’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen. So it’s witches, huh?” Cas nodded and Dean pursed his lips, “Freakin’ fantastic. Just what I needed.” He really hated witches. Excessive use of bodily fluids and unpredictable behavior was not on his fun list.

     “It’s probably one witch acting alone, not a whole coven.” Cas looked at Dean with a worried expression. One witch was a good thing, right?

    “Well that’s the first and only piece of good news. You can kill witches with your mojo, right Cas?” Maybe that was what he was worried about? Dean covered up the bodies as Cas thought about his answer.

    “Most likely. I won’t know what wards this witch has protecting themselves until I face them. Judging by the complicated spellwork and the strength necessary to do that,” Cas gestured to the bodies,”this witch is very powerful.”

    Great. No guarantees. As always. Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He opened his eyes and looked into Cas’s. Cas stared back. When they'd first met, this had disturbed Dean, but he quickly learned that was just how Cas interacted with people. Dean wanted to believe that Cas stared at him a little longer and with more intensity than he did with other people, but he knew he was fooling himself. Suddenly filled with the urgent need to break off the eye contact, Dean said the first halfway reasonable thing that popped into his head.

    “So, Cas. Let’s put that computer of a brain to good use. Read through these files and see if you find any connection between the victims. I’m gonna check out the crime scenes.” Dean was focusing intently on his task of pushing the bodies back into the drawers. He needed not to think about Cas’s freakin’ gorgeous blue eyes or there was going to be an awkward situation.

    Cas walked out with him in silence. Dean nodded politely to the police lady at the front and exited the building. He walked up to the Impala, opened the door and sat down. He looked up and saw Cas backing away from him. Dean’s mind went into high alert mode. What had he done wrong?

    “Be safe, Dean.” Cas was being very confusing. Dean frowned.

    “Where are you going?” Dean swore Cas was the most confusing person he’d ever met.

    “You told me to read the file.” Cas sounded kind of sad, as if reading the file was the last thing he wanted to do. Everything fell into place. Cas thought that Dean meant they were splitting up. Dean recalled his words and regretted not thinking them through first.

    “I didn’t tell you to read it by yourself, sitting alone on some park bench waiting for me to come back. Hop in.” Dean visualized what he imagined Cas had been planning to do. Judging from the expression on Cas’s face, Dean wasn’t far off. Cas materialized next to him in the Impala. Dean smiled gently to himself. Dean liked to think Cas enjoyed spending time with him more than with others. Maybe he was wrong, but he chose to believe it for now.

    Dean drove to the pawn shop parking lot where the first murdered had occurred. He looked around the area. There was a camera every ten feet. No way in hell had they all been off.

   “No evidence my ass.” He looked over at Cas, “Okay, Cas. Can you handle half of these shops?” Dean was pretty confident Cas was fluent enough in human to pull this off, but he felt the need to give him a few pointers anyway, “Just go in, say ‘Good evening. Agent Bacic’, flash your badge, and demand, _gently_ at first, to see their video footage from…” Dean couldn’t remember the date. He reached for the file, but before he had gotten halfway Cas had spouted it off from memory. Dean straightened and laughed, “This is why we have you read the file.”

    Dean patted Cas on the shoulder and pretended not to notice how it made his hand tingle. From the way Cas had stiffened, Dean guessed that the touch had not been welcome. Ignoring the slight ache in his heart, Dean proposed a plan, “What do you say I take the ones on the left and you take the ones on the right?” Dean pointed.

    “That’s perfectly fine.” Cas glared at the buildings as if they were some fierce adversary. Dean smirked slightly.

   “Okey dokey. Let’s get this done.” Dean exited the Impala and strode off to the nearest building.

 

     Nothing. There was absolutely nothing on any of the tapes. Dean hadn’t watched any of them after the third blank four hour gap. Something did this and Dean guessed witches. They were always extra trouble.  Dean threw open the Impala’s door in frustration. It snapped open faster than was healthy for it. Dean gripped the edge of the door and slowly brought it back to a neutral position.

    “Sorry, Baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Dean sat down and grabbed the case file. Maybe he’d missed a crucial detail. A few minutes later he looked up and saw a not-so-clean Cas walking up to the Impala. He opened the passenger door.

    “Did you find any useful information?” Cas sat as he spoke and Dean cringed at the dirt he was getting on the seat.

     “Not remotely. All the tapes had this four-hour gap. Like the electricity went out. Except half of them ran on batteries.” Dean made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

    Cas nodded, “I found the same.”

    Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Dean asked, “Dude, what’s with the dust? Did you get attacked by a broom?” Dean took the excuse to check Cas out.

   “A feather duster actually. Mrs. Gierson believed me to be a burglar.” Cas sighed.  Dean held his breath, trying not to laugh. A snort escaped, making Cas look over at him which opened the floodgates. Cas looked confused, but a small smile tugged at the edges of his lips.

    “So..” Dean stuffed the laughter back in, “spellcraft? Something else?”

    “Spellwork is most likely. If we find the same blank spot at the other three crime scenes, and it is exactly four hours, that will confirm it. If it's not the same amount of time, we’ll have to start from scratch.” Cas looked through the windshield, into the distance. Great. That meant more pointless questioning.

    At 9 pm, Dean decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He was tired and humanity was getting on his nerves. He was pretty damn sure that they would find the same thing at the last crime scene as they had at the previous three. Cas had seemed ready to work through the night, but it had only taken Dean mentioning that they should probably find a hotel for Cas to agree to stop.

    Dean stepped out of the Impala and looked at the hotel in front of them. It looked a little dirty, but mostly okay. He walked in, Cas close behind him. The young man at the front desk looked up and rushed to put his magazine down. The way he hurried made Dean wonder if the magazine was porn. Trying not to smirk at the young man, Dean placed his elbows on the counter and waited to be helped.

    “One bed or two?” The man looked at Dean and then at Cas who was standing a little too close to Dean. Cas didn’t sleep and Sam wasn’t here, so that made Dean’s decision easy.

    “One.” Dean responded. The man’s eyebrows went up and Cas stiffened behind him. Shit! That was not what he meant. Pretending to be oblivious, Dean handed over his credit card. The man kept giving him and Cas shifty looks, but Dean wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy thinking about if he and Cas _did_ share a bed. He took the keys and walked down the hallway, still stuck in his incredibly good fantasy. Cas’s sharp whisper snapped him out of it.

     “Dean, that man thought we were together.” Cas sounded very worried about that and Dean felt a stab of pain and guilt. Cas would never want him that way. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it. Pretending to be cool with everything and not in the process of having his heart torn to shreds, Dean responded.

    “Yeah, I know. I don’t really care what he thinks. We only need one bed and I might as well save the money.” Dean located room 4111 and slid the card in and out as quickly as possible. The sooner they got into the room, the sooner he could escape this awkward situation. Dean flung the door open, threw his duffel bag on the bed, and removed his clothes as quickly as possible. He fled to the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him.

    Dean immediately turned on the water and leaned against the wall. He’d been half planning to take a very long, hot shower and jerk off to relieve some of the sexual tension going on, but now that it came to it, he just couldn’t. That would make him think of Cas, no matter how hard he tried not to, and that would just make him feel even guiltier than he was already. He should know. It had happened often enough.

    Dean slid to the floor and let the water run. He’d been having a great time with Cas, as a friend. Maybe he’d stared a bit more than friends should, but that wasn’t the same as having full on fantasies. He didn't know how to get his brain back into just friends mode with Cas. Ever since the day he'd looked at Cas and felt that overwhelming emotion for the first time, Dean had struggled with that. Of course he would prefer if Cas would love him back, but why would someone like Cas ever love someone like Dean?

    Cas was an angel. Dean was a human. Cas lived in Heaven while Dean had been scarred by Hell. Cas may be good for him, but he wasn’t good for Cas. Cas had died helping him. He’d rebelled against his family because of Dean. Nothing good for Cas had come out of their relationship. Dean let his head fall into his hands. There was one good thing. Dean had taught Cas how to enjoy life a bit and not just follow orders. That was something. Dean stood up, suddenly inspired to actually take a shower. He was in and out quickly, taking just enough time to clean himself. He slipped into the clothes he’d worn that morning and exited the bathroom. Cas was waiting for him.

    “Dean. I know where the witch lives.”

    “How… Where?” Cas never ceased to surprise Dean.

    “I can take you now.” Cas held up his hand and Dean shuddered at the thought of flying.

    “Umm, no. I’m gonna avoid that unless it’s completely necessary.” Dean might not even do it then. Cas didn’t miss a beat and handed a pamphlet to Dean. Inside was a map of the city on which Cas had marked six points. Four were the crime scenes, one finished the outline of a pentagram, and one was in the exact center.

   "Okay. We have to go tonight. We don’t know when this witch is planning to steal her next heart.” Dean smiled. He hadn’t quite meant to make that joke. Dean grabbed the duffle bag off of his bed and headed to the car with Cas reluctantly in tow. Really? He was going to pout about the flying?

    Dean hopped into the Impala and turned on his music. Some good, old ACDC never hurt before a hunt. Cas sat next to him and began to give directions. Dean knew exactly how to get to the spot Cas had marked, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop Cas. Not because he really liked the sound of his voice, but because it was important for Cas to feel helpful. Dean nodded to himself.

    Dean parked a few houses down from the witch’s house (which he actually did need Cas to point out). He stood and gently closed the door behind him. Dean pulled out his handgun and began to approach the house. He motioned for Cas to follow him through the broken down fence. He was hoping for a backdoor where curious neighbors wouldn’t see them.

    He was in luck. The backdoor he found wasn’t even locked, it just had a latch to keep it closed. He gingerly lifted the latch, ready to stop immediately if it squeaked. It didn’t. He peered into the dark interior and felt at his belt for where he normally stuck his flashlight. It wasn’t there.

   “Damnit! I forgot my flashlight in the car. You got a light Cas?” Dean whispered, hoping that he wouldn’t have to walk back to the car and that maybe Cas would just fly there and back. Instead Cas began sorting through the pockets of his trenchcoat. He pulled matches out of one of the inner pockets and held them up. That wasn’t exactly what Dean had been looking for, but Cas was already striking a match and had seemed so happy to be able to help. Dean let it slide.

    By the light of the first match Dean studied the layout of the room. It soon fizzled out and Cas lit a second one. Dean stepped over the threshold and began navigating the mess. If you have magic powers, why not use them to clean up a bit? Cas moved up really close behind Dean.

    “She’s in the first bedroom on the left.” Dean shivered as Cas’s breath passed over his ear. God damnit! Why did Cas have to distract him right now. Forcing himself to focus, Dean began to move left, but stopped cold when the match went out. Cas was quick to light the next one and Dean continued towards the door Cas had indicated. He gripped the knob and ever so slowly turned it. When he felt the resistance go away, he let the door swing inwards. The match went out. Dean waited, but Cas didn’t light another.

    “Cas, you out of matches?” Dean whispered as softly as he could.

    “Yes, Dean. You know it’s a funky town when you can’t even find your own matches.” Cas’s voice was blank and steady. Shit! What had happened? The witch must be awake. What did Cas need him to do? Dean pretended he had no idea what was going on while trying to assess if Cas needed him to do anything.

    “Okay, Cas. I’m just gonna stand right here for now then. Unless you need me to move?”

    “You’re good, Dean,” Cas paused, “I’ll go find more.” With a soft flutter of wings, Dean suddenly knew he was alone in the house. He couldn’t see a thing. He assumed Cas had taken the witch with him to some other location. Would Cas be okay? Dean stumbled back into the living room in a blind search for a light switch. He tripped over something on the floor and almost fell. Dean cursed. Why wouldn’t Cas let Dean help?

    Without a warning, the light blazed to life. Dean squinted, eyes in pain, and made out Cas in the far corner and a foreign-looking woman walking towards him. The pain in his eyes forgotten, Dean raised his gun. This must be the witch. Dean was preparing for a chest shot when Cas called out, “No!”

    Dean’s focus shifted to Cas in surprise. He raised his eyebrows and Cas nodded. Okay. If Cas said so he wouldn’t shoot. Continuing some conversation he hadn’t been a part of, the witch turned to Cas and spoke.

    “See, he is just a pet. Listens to his master.” Dean was insulted, but had better things to worry about. Like, if Cas’s mojo could kill the witch, why hadn’t he done it already?

    “You piss me off,” Cas said in a serious voice. Dean would have smiled under any other circumstances. Dean shook his head, the strangest sensation brushing across it. Not across it, through it. Dean just about flipped out, thinking the witch was working some spell on him, but the touch felt… familiar. That small relaxation in his guard allowed the touch to take up residence inside his skull. Dean put a hand to his head. It wasn’t a touch, it was a presence.

    Dean was vaguely aware of the witch speaking, but was way too focused on the fact that someone was _in his head_ to understand what she said. With an almost audible click the presence clarified and Dean felt _Cas_ . As soon as he realized that Cas wanted to communicate with him, Dean drew the presence closer and paid attention. Vaguely, Dean heard words that were not his own in his mind. _When I tell you, shoot her in the head._ Dean raised his gun in preparation. Cas must have had some sort of plan.

  
    “You won’t die easily.” Cas practically growled. His hands shot out in front of him and the witch stumbled back a few steps and the stood as if she were resisting a strong wind. While he couldn’t see anything, Dean knew that attempted smiting was happening. Going by the calm, confident look on the witch’s face, it wasn’t going so well. Dean wanted to do something to help, but he waited for Cas’s signal.

    There were no words, but Dean felt a silent affirmative from Cas. He aimed for the witch’s head and pulled the trigger. The witch fell without a sound and Dean could see Cas again. Dean began to smile, but then he noticed the blood seeping out of Cas’s chest. Dean’s bullet had actually injured Cas? Dean was moving towards Cas as Cas fell to his knees, eyes closed.

    What had he done? What had the witch done? Dean kneeled in front of Cas and cupped his face. Was Cas dying?

    “Cas! Open up! Cas! Are you alright? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shoot you. Cas, listen to me. We need to get that bullet out of you. Cas! Can you hear me?” Dean’s mind was a dark cloud of worry as he failed to get a response. Then Cas opened his eyes and Dean was slightly dazzled by his blue eyes, but the relief quickly swept that away. Cas just stared into Dean’s eyes and a smile began to form on his face. Dean smiled back, but Cas’s smile kept growing. Dean didn't think he'd ever seen Cas smile even half this wide. Then Cas spoke three words.

    “You love me.” Dean froze. What? Was Cas okay? Had the witch damaged his mind? No. No! Cas was still in his mind. Cas couldn't see that! Cas would leave and never come back this time. But… Cas was smiling. More than Dean had ever seen. Did…did Cas love him too?

    Joy erupted in Dean and he surged forward to kiss the angel. Halfway through the motion Dean realized that is was foolish, but didn't care enough to stop himself. His lips pressed against Cas’s and it was an explosion of heat. Cas reached up and grabbed Dean’s head, pulling him impossibly closer.

    Dean couldn't think. His mind was consumed with Cas’s lips, Cas’s neck under his hands, Cas’s chest moving against his, Cas’s hands pulling him closer. Eventually though, Dean’s lungs began to burn and he pulled away. Dean needed to tell Cas how happy this made him, how much he loved Cas, something to let Cas know that Dean wasn't just happy about coming out on top of this hunt.

    “Cas…” Before he had the chance to get everything out, Cas made a shushing noise and pulled Dean's lips back to his. Cas was right. Talking was overrated.

    Their lips moved together in sync and when Cas let his lips part, Dean sucked his lower lip into his own mouth. Dean was pretty sure Cas moaned, but it could have been him. Too soon, Cas pulled himself away and stood. Realizing just how much his knees hurt from kneeling on the floor, Dean stood up. The pain was gone a moment after he had registered it.

    Dean looked at Cas, prepared to thank him, but saw the bullet wound, still oozing blood. How had he forgotten about that? He frowned and reached out to touch Cas. Cas looked down and seemed surprised. A moment later, the bullet pushed it's way to the surface and fell to ground with a clatter. The blood stopped flowing down Cas’s front.

    Dean stared at the bullet and frowned again. What did Cas think of what just happened? Did he really feel the same way Dean did, or was he just reacting?

    “Cas, um, what does this...” Dean gestured between them,”...mean? I… What happens next?” Dean resisted the desire to shuffle his feet.

    “We go back to the hotel room, you sleep and I recover,” Cas responded. The little smart ass.

    “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Dean glared at Cas, but was incapable of anger towards him at the moment. Suddenly, Cas’s presence was gone from his mind. Dean had forgotten it was there and felt empty without it.

       “What do you want, Dean? You just saw what I want. But if that made you uncomfortable, I would never mention it again.” Cas seemed already to be resigning himself to never mentioning it. Dean grinned. Cas did care about him the same way!

       “I want _you_ , Cas. I don’t want you to leave, ever again.” Dean felt a bit awkward saying this, but it was how he truly felt and Cas needed to hear it. Dean leaned his forehead against Cas’s and Cas turned it into a gentle kiss.

     “I was never planning to leave. Ever.” Cas stared into Dean’s eyes and Dean got the feeling that Cas was talking about more time than Dean could even imagine. Dean grinned from ear to ear, imagining Cas with him in his heaven. Then Dean chuckled imagining the expression on Sam's face the first time he sees them kiss. Cas tilted his head questioningly. Dean explained.

    “Sam’s gonna freak. I don’t know what he’s gonna think.” Dean smirked.

    “Well, it's just the two of us for right now,” Cas smiled. Dean moved closer to Cas.

    “Mmm. You're right.” Dean brushed his lips against Cas’s and then gently kissed him. Remembering the witch's body behind him, Dean glanced over his shoulder, “We should get out of here.”

    Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and Cas held his back. They walked back to the Impala in silence. When they arrived, Dean released Cas so they both could enter the car. Dean regretted letting go of Cas the moment they parted. As soon as Cas sat down, Dean reclaimed his hand. If Cas was going to fly off anywhere, Dean would be coming with.

    When they arrived at the hotel, Dean briefly considered not holding Cas’s hand in public. That thought was immediately thrown out the window with excessive force. The dude at the front desk already though they were together anyway. Dean walked back to their room with Cas by his side. Dean was exhausted, but had no intentions of letting Cas out of his sight. He kicked off his shoes and dragged Cas over to the bed. Cas looked confused, so Dean explained.

    “I know you don't sleep. But I'm not lettin’ go of you.” Dean gave Cas his best firm stare, but it wasn't needed. Cas happily crawled onto the bed next to Dean and they both settled under the blankets. Cas kissed Dean on the lips and then began outlining Dean’s bone structure with kisses. If he hadn't been up all night, Dean probably would have wanted this to go in a whole different direction, but as it was he soon dropped off to sleep.

    Dean woke a few hours later, just before the sun. The first thing he saw was a pair of brilliant blue eyes staring into his own. It didn't take long to get ready and he and Cas were soon on the road, watching the sunrise as Dean held Cas’s hand. They didn’t talk, but they didn't really need to. Dean was happy. Cas was happy. And that was all that mattered.

    

  



End file.
